


The Chronicles of Paramore

by ClockworkStoryteller, NightWalker83



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Character Death, Demons, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Folklore, Gen, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Paranormal, Psychic Abilities, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkStoryteller/pseuds/ClockworkStoryteller, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightWalker83/pseuds/NightWalker83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The paranormal world has always more or less been an unseen world, full of all sorts of things that go bump in the night, but even those things are just the tip of the ice burg. This is the story of how a family discovers its long history in the supernatural world and it all begins with a boy who has the unfortunate luck to become a murder witness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Beginnings

My parents never officially met, - I mean they knew each other, or at least they knew of each other – but the two really had just known the other from seeing them around our little four-building town. My father was the mechanics son and being that in our community everybody knows each other, no one could see why my dad shouldn’t be able to drive his own truck even though he was barely of age. So it was no big deal, a nice gesture really, when Dad would sometimes offer Mom a ride home. It was a convenient thing really, what with how they both lived on the outskirts of it at the time. They both lived more out in the open country. But that was it really. It wasn’t until the two were older that they started to hang out, and the two became best friends, and three years later they “FINALLY” – as their friends laughingly put it – began dating in their sophomore year of high school.  
My mom back then wore her long, incredibly curly, sandy – almost blonde – brown hair down and loose, so she could let it blow in the wind. She has deep ochre brown eyes, a small but still average nose, and at the time only wore t shirts and blue jeans as she was the perfect example of a tom boy, except on Sundays when she wore a white sun dress, and looked liked the picture of femininity despite the pinkish tone her skin takes on, that day of the week. She was a pastor’s step daughter after all, though she easily passed as his own flesh and blood.

My dad had curly, deep dark reddish brown hair, a small nose, and swampy green eyes that change hues with the weather. He had narrow shoulders, a large frame, and a small build. My younger sister Violet looks the most like him…. Well she looks the most like he did. People speak of him, and have said that he never could go some place without making a whole lot of friends. He was a popular person, but not because he had money or good looks, or because he was an athlete. Because almost none of those could apply to him, as yes he was an attractive person, and yes he was an athlete, but only temporarily as he quit being the star football player. My grandfather said that “the first time the coach said to start exercising, your father, he just walked right outta there saying ‘Hell! I’m not doing this shit!’, Yeah, your dad, he was a real funny guy.” So yes my father was a very popular and somewhat attractive man, but he didn’t have money. No he certainly did not have money, in fact neither he, nor my mother had money…. But I’ll save that discussion for another time, a more suitable time. My father was popular and made countless friends because he was such a funny, understanding, kind and down-to-earth person. He’d call everyone at the end of the day, with a “You’re not going to believe what the fuck happened to me today!” in response to their “Hello?”. He was the kind of guy who do you a favor whether you had asked him to or not. He’d take both your shift and his at work, and, depending on if you lived alone, would bring you soup after work, when you missed a day. He was the kind of person who felt bad if he didn’t help put all the carts back in the cart rack in the parking lot at the grocery store, and often times we would help. Yeah, he was that kind of person.

When he and my mom bought their first house together, it was this shabby little thing on the corner of Bluebell and Lincoln road. We still pass it every day in the bus on the way to school. It was an old white ranch, with a wood siding, that began a foot above the ground, just after these white, tan, and gray stones, held together only by the cement that had already began cracking when the house was theirs, and seems to have only continued to since those first few years.  
In the second year of my parent’s residency there, my eldest sister Rosaline (or Rose as she prefers to be acknowledged) was born. Rosaline Samantha Black. Samantha, being her middle name was in dedication to our great-great-grandmother Samantha Caroline Black who began our little family. Rose has the most beautiful midnight-blue eyes, hair a dark almost black shade of brown, the color of a tree that, after having gone up in flames was three months later struck by lightning. Its smooth like silk, or better yet, silk is almost as smooth as her hair, and it’s naturally curly, and kept back in a pony tail that reaches all the way down her back. She has a small frame, pale skin, which she would much rather have than trying to get a “tan-with-a-possible-side-of-skin-cancer”, which she says while pointing out that women who have pale, or fair skin, and have either blue or green eyes, have a much larger chance at getting skin cancer due to an intense enough exposure to sunlight. Rose has a definite mother complex, but only because she cares so much, a trait which, alongside being a hard and dedicated worker, seems to show itself time and time again throughout both sides of our family’s long history. She has cheeks that are as red as the flower for which she was named, and she has a small nose, that obtains a matching color whenever she gets sick. She’s resilient, strong, brave, has a heart of gold, is always honest, and a truly bright and trying scholar, though we all have to be as we were only just getting by when I was a boy, and now are getting to be an economic middle class little by little and half of the tuition at our school is covered by our local church, which our grandfather is still the pastor of.

Our cousin Alice Diann Grey, was conceived next, while my mother was just beginning her third and final trimester with Rose, and so both women – my mom and my dad’s sister – spent all of their time together with their husbands in tow. Alice (or Aly, as neither She nor Rose prefer to be called by their official first names), has eyes like my father’s and her mother’s, in that they change with the weather, a2nd sometimes on a blue moon, will change with her mood, usually going from a precious sapphire blue, to a royal or navy color; before the change to an emerald green, or to a gray that looks as though they had seen much, and hold memories of things that occurred in centuries past, though there’s this electric kind of light that’s always twinkling in her eyes no matter what color they change. She has a small frame, and narrow shoulders, and has skin even fairer than Rose’s, though it’s not as apparent as my eldest sister’s is. Aly has hair slightly more red than the reddest orange flames of a fire, that was set within a ring of large stones, on a mid-summer’s night, when the sky is alight with the twinkling of stars and there are fireflies flitting about everywhere in the night. She’s a quirky socialite, and always seems to know what’s bothering you, and is always one step ahead of everyone else.

Then there was me. My name is Nicholas Michael Black, and I’m one of the only ones of our group that prefers to be known by their actual name. When Mom discovered that she was pregnant with me it was a sunny afternoon and Dad had just put Rose down for a nap, and said “Ya know, I think I’m really starting to get the hang of this parenting thing.” Well you’d better be seeing as now we have another baby on the way.” I have curly dark brown hair that’s parted on the right, and arcs downward outlining the left side of my face, where I have a little cross shaped birthmark on the lower left side of my cheek. I have fair skin, but it’s a little pinkish, in my opinion. My eyes too, change color with the weather, but are predominantly a duke blue. My nose is small, my eyelashes long, my shoulders narrow, and my frame is small. I’m almost always cold, so I usually where long sleeves. My friends say that I’m very funny and outgoing, but I don’t really think so. My mom describes me as a modest, fun loving, thinker, which I guess is true, since I was a very awkward and quirky child, so, not having very many friends, - other than Ethan James a blonde boy whose been my first and best friend since I was born – I’ve had more than enough time to think. 

A year after my birth came my youngest sister Violet Lenore Black. She is most definitely the most talented, rambunctious, and smartest of us. Her small body houses great determination. She has, like the rest of us, eyes that change with the weather, but this change extends farther, and her skin, mood, and how she feels is affected. When the roads are muddy, the weather is crappy, and it’s going from Winter to Spring, she feels sick, groggy, and is tired regardless of how much sleep she gets. Most of the time her eyes are forest green, and she has a small nose, small frame, narrow shoulders, and is the only one of us with anything resembling my mother’s hair, as Violet’s hair is blonde like our Grandfathers, and is as long as the dresses that she wears every day. Oh yes, she wears long dresses every day that she can, black ones, blue ones, brown ones, white ones, red ones, yellow ones, she’s got every color, and matching bandanas that she wears like wrist bands. She’s also the only one of us who could read more than six books in a day, (I can’t even get through one in that much time!), and the one who believes deeply in the supernatural. I’ve always had a deep understanding with her on that, but only enough to see the possibility in it partly because she makes a damn convincing argument. She has an awkward time making friends within her grade so most of her friends are at least one grade higher or lower, though there are many adult friends of hers.

So yeah, that’s all of us, and pretty much all that you need to know before I get started telling you our story, with some of their help of course. Oh! One more thing! This is not some story of grave importance: we don’t save the world, we weren’t destined to become some force of greatness, and God certainly did NOT have some great divine importance for us. Seriously. Just because killing demons, exorcising ghosts, or stopping supernatural evils sounds like the right thing to do God won’t think anything more of you just because you killed a murderous vampire. God doesn’t want us to hunt demons (I’m pretty sure of that), he just wants for us to believe in him. And God won’t think you to be better than others anyways. That’s something that some parents do (I’m not saying all, and I’m NOT saying your’s do/does [if you only have one, I’m terribly sorry that I’ve brought it up]); either because they’re assholes or one of their kids is. – Anyways! Back to the point! This is the story of how a bunch of people, completely unrelated to each other managed to *fuck* things up for us, and how we’ve dealt with the consequences of that. So now, without further a due, our story…. Please enjoy it!


	2. Nighttime Visits

The Real Chapter One

1 Friendly Visits

I laid in bed, making wishes on the light shining on the wall across from me. The cars passing by our house going down the road usually caused light from their gleaming headlights to shine through the window behind my head, and drape the adjacent wall, filling the room with a very dim yellow-white glow. I wish I had a little black baby kitten! I wished, clamping my eyes shut, and felling the cool spray of the summer night drizzle on my face. I wished for a cat because, well, I love cats. A lot. They are my favorite animals. And I wanted a black one, because it felt witchy.

I moved my single-size bed to this little cove in my room, right in between the walls of the two closets, (a snug fit at that!) when I was about five, and ever since then it’s stayed there. The cove has a window overlooking the drive way, and I keep it open every night, the head of the bed toughing its frame.  
“Psssssssst! Nicholas!” Evan whispered in a hushed tone.

I flicked the light switch on in my cove, the room flooding with blue light, from the colored ‘Party Bulb’, and waved.

“Do you want up?” I asked.

“Sure!” he responded, as I unlatched the wire mesh screen, from the open window, setting it down on the floor at the foot of my bed, and getting the rope from beneath my bed (where it was tied to a leg that was right up against the wall), then tossed down the end of that old and reliable chord.

Evan then, with his golden blonde hair shining in the pale headlights of a passing car grabbed onto the rope and began climbing, one had onto the section of rope between each knot. He was surprisingly light, considering how tall he was, and used his legs to shimmy up. Soon enough, the boy was climbing in through the window.

He did a summersault and unfolded his body onto my bed, clothes damp with the misty almost-rain, that had been plaguing our home bound summer vacations. If it weren’t for him turning his head to look at me, I would’ve mistaken his blue aura for the light from the party bulb. He sighed, his black undershirt rising with his chest as it clung to his skin.

“Is it just me, or is your window getting higher?”

“Or maybe you’re just getting lazier and lazier.” I responded, and then followed up with “…You do know that my mom isn’t home yet, and we aren’t secret lovers, right? You could’ve just used the door like a normal person.”

“But where’s the fun in that? And besides, it’s a good workout.” He said in a false optimistic tone.

“God knows you need to lose the weight” I said sarcastically, but I started laughing by the end of it.

“Do you remember how Zack Miller is having a party next week?” Zack Miller was the Captain of the football team, he has looks, money, and no brains to boot. Talk about a walking stereotype. His father was the team coach, and was a really nice and funny person, though his son was cocky, arrogant, and a surprisingly poor sport, but didn’t become the captain because he was the coach’s son. Apparently the kid put work into something.

“Yeah, But with the unpredictable weather we’ve been having, I doubt it’s going to be any fun.”

“Yeah, could you imagine all those people swimming one minute, and then scrambling into the house at the first crack of thunder?” He ended this chuckling.

“I feel bad for this, but I think I’d just laugh at all those people slipping and falling.” He added.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” I replied with a sigh. I’m not very good at conversation, and don’t feel like practicing tonight.

“Well, okay, right to the point then.” He chuckled.

“I was wondering if you were going to go.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t really fit in with that crowd. I mean really, I don’t know what to say, how to engage in a two sided conversation, the only time I do is when I twist someone’s words into an innuendo, and I hate looking dirty minded.”

“But that’s how they know you, as the funny guy who makes something inappropriate.”

“I do that for their benefit, not mine.” I said dryly. “And furthermore, I don’t make something dirty I just make a simple comment in a suggestive tone, and allow their minds to do all the work. God knows it’s the only exercise their brains will ever get, and it’s not really even that much of a strain on them, considering how sex is a constant thing on their brains.” What? I’m not being mean, or anything. It’s true. Few of the male athletes at our school have been in a relationship that lasted longer than a month, and the some of the few that didn’t date were either blatant jerks, or gay and in the closet. There’s only one athlete that didn’t fall under those categories, and was a nice guy, and that’s Evan.

“Well what about the girls at the party? You connect with women way better than with men.”

“True, but do you realize how little of a personality they have. I mean I’m sorry, but a lot of girls today are so engrossed in pop culture, that they don’t even have a favorite genre in literature, or in music. Their music consists only of songs that have been popular, and were played on the radio for three months, and then stopped because that song got way old, and overused. And all of their favorite books are ones that get kind of popular for a few weeks, and in that time, nearly everyone of their friends are reading it at the same time.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true. But I need an excuse to hang out with Alice,” he stated with a guilty look on his face. “And I heard that someone asked your sister Rose, to come personally, and I’m going to take a wild guess and say that she won’t be here.” He turned that guilt into a cynical smile. Damn. He was convincing. Plus, though I should be making him go talk to Alice on his own, I know that it’d mean a lot if he could have me there to support him. And with how nervous he gets around her, he’d need all the support he could get, and then some.

“And I really really, need your help talking to Alice. You know how I get.” Yep, right on cue.

“Fine I’ll go.... Maybe.... Now what did you really come here to talk about?”

“Okay, I really came here to see if you wanted to come over and spend the night at my house.”

“Really.” I sat up and shot the words out with excitement. I don’t make real friends very easily and so I love getting to spend time with them. Evan, being my best friend since childhood, had known me all my life, and been there for me as long as I can remember. Plus he has five younger sisters, and an infant sister who was just born last year, and they all were adorable, spontaneous, nice, and funny.

“Well that sounds like a yes.” He said laughing.

“Yes I’d love to go!.... But I have to make sure Violet will be okay by herself.” Mom was at Nana’s house checking in, as the elder woman’s memory is slowly starting to deteriorate.

“She’ll be fine. She’s smarter than me, and she’s got Bardolf to protect her.” He responded in a desperate tone.  
Bardolf’s our big black German Shepard, whose going deaf in his right ear, and his left is eye is gray (I’m suspecting with blindness) and he’ll randomly react to things on his left, as if he spotted something, when there’nothing there, so as far as we’re concerned that eye doesn’t work.... as it should.

“Since when is my dog – going on eleven years now – suitable protection?”

“Fine, but she’s still capable of handling things on her own. If there’s a burglar she’ll fight him off, because when she fights, she’s out for blood.” True. My mom always taught us to avoid fighting, but if someone else starts it, then we end it. Period. She has nothing more to say on the subject.  
Also true that Violet could defend herself. Once, when she was younger, a boy threw a rock at her head. He did not expect her to catch it, and let me tell you she whipped it right at his face. Sometimes I’m damn proud to be her older brother.

“Just let me tell her I’ll be out, then.” I said getting up, and heading for the door. I walked down the hall about ten feet and knocked on the first door on my right. It was a large white door with fairy stickers on it and a heptigram drawn on it in the center.

“Shhhhh!” I heard her whisper.

The first thing in my mind was: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THERE? I mean, if she had a boy in her room with her, I should know being the "responsible" older brother, and closest one to adulthood (since my sister was at Aly’s house). And she hasn’t ever even shown any interests in love. Nor in boys, coupled with the concept of love. I wasn’t even that sure that she liked anyone one in that kind of way.

“What’s going on in here?” I asked quickly as I swung the door open, entering her little neat, dark, boy free.... wait.... what?

“Uhmmm....Who were you just whispering too?” I asked the lump beneath the heavy blankets of her bed. Her aura shimmered in greens and yellows, and the green seemed to blend in quite nicely with her green blanket. 

She had a quaint little room overlooking the forest, something that my father had painted on her walls. On all of our walls. Trees extending from floor to ceiling, where their tops met forming a circle around a blue moon, in a starry sky.

I had a similar thing in my room, but in mine was a red moon, and the trees were barren of leaves, the stars were much brighter, and at the foot of each tree was a mound of snow connecting them all. The wood floor was white matching the snow, but the painted white flakes seemed to glow like blood. The same goes for Rose but in hers was a full moon, and, though the trees are still barren, there are leaves scattered across the ground.

“Bardolf. He heard Evan come in. We both heard Evan come in.” She replied turning, sounding just like Mom, and snapping me back to reality.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I responded lamely, and looking to the floor, which was scattered with books, lots and lots of books. Some books have little statues of fairies, goblins, elves, gnomes, and a dwarf, sitting atop them.

“I’m going to spend the night at Evan’s house. Do you want to come? His sister’s all like you. So does his great aunt and they love Bardolf.” I said, after a quick glance at my phone. It was eight ten, so that gave me almost five minutes to pack, and since the house was a fifteen minute run from here, I should have plenty of time to write a note to my mom and pack my things before I leave.

Our mother was one of the hardest working mothers in the world. She’s a preschool teacher and a volunteer at a homeless shelter on the weekends. For the past few months my father’s mother (our Nana as she prefers to be called), has been having some increasing memory problems, a genetic trait passed down for many generations on both sides of the family. Memory problems and ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) is seen in all of us: Violet, Alice, Rose, and I included. However, Violet Rose and Alice have had a much easier time managing it than I have, because the paint on the ceiling of my room began to peel away, and I had consumed the flakes, which caused me such problem with my cognitive development that I had needed to take special education classes when I was younger, but once we knew the cause, we had put a much tougher primer on the ceiling to prevent more flakes from falling. We didn’t repaint the ceiling because my father painted a mural on it and it was one of the only things I had to remember him by. His – mysteriously good – murals were a common thing each of us had to remember him by.

“No thanks” she yawned “Too tired.” She responded in just that manner.

“Why are you in bed? It’s still Eight-o-clock.”

“I’m not feeling very well. Plus I stayed up last night.” She stated, followed by a yawn. Bardolf then gave a big yawn too. It was loud and obnoxious, but it made Violet giggle and hug him.

“Okay, well then get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning. Love you. Goodnight.” I said flicking off the lights, and carefully shutting the door. I quietly crept back down the hall, and entering my room found a snoring Evan asleep on my bed.

I flicked on the lights in my room illuminating it, and eliciting a groan from Evan as he groggily sat up in bed.

“Well good morning sunshine.” I said with my voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, your mattress is way too comfortable.” He said stretching his arms. This was definitely not true. My mattress is an old box of bed springs and I think that if it were alive it'd be a guy since one of the springs is always poking me in the back at night.

I went to the wall on the right of my door, about teen feet away from the entrance, where my drawers were built into the wall, and sliding the top drawer open grabbed a brown v neck t shirt. I slid open two other drawers grabbing a pair of blue jeans, and some green underwear. I then grabbed the black leather gym bag from my left closet beneath my rack of Sunday clothes, and put the clean clothes for me to wear tomorrow, my wrist bands: orange for Multiple Sclerosis (my father’s father has this and because of it can’t use his right hand and gradually is losing that arm), lime for non-Hodgkin Lymphoma (something that a friend of mine was diagnosed with last fall), and indigo for targeted individuals (something that my diagnosed friend had to deal with prior to her diagnosis); and I put in my class ring, that I bought with my money from babysitting and from working at the bookstore.

I packed a toothbrush, tooth paste, floss, deodorant, and my retainers; I also packed my ADD medication, and my laptop.

My friend Stephanie has been one of my best friends since first grade when some kids were making fun of her at recess, and I tossed a bucket of sand on them. She has beautiful green eyes that shine like stars, and a personality that’s just about as ecstatic, cool, and badass, as it is – as her Southern Belle mom would say “sweet enough to kill a diabetic”. She’s a true techie, and all animals other than dogs and cats love her, though Bardolf is an exception to the dogs because he is the only one who doesn’t bark at her (she has a phobia of barking dogs).

I thought of Stephanie when I grabbed my laptop: I was bringing it to Evan’s house so I could show him the story that she and I were writing. It’s about a society still recovering from the damage of an ancient war fought for complete control over the world. The society is comprised of four races of people each blessed with its own gift. The People of the Moon are the monarchs and put themselves at the head of society, and media. The People of the Sea are beneath them, charged with policing, and law work. The Children of the Forest are the beneath the Sea People, and do everything else other than construction which the Mountain Children are enslaved and forced to do. The story encompasses a group of people from each group and their adventure this collapsing society, as they try to escape unscathed. 

There was something I was missing.... The other ring! I bought a ring at a garage sale, and the owner didn’t realize the ring was real silver, and thinking it was metal she sold it to me. I bargained with her and went from paying the original 2.50 got it for 0.75¢. It had a large garnet stone in the center, surrounded by fifteen little garnet stones. I was pretty sure that the stones might be fake, but I hoped they were real.

I thought about the ring for a moment, remembering it and visualizing it, trying to maintain an accurate mental image.... The middle drawer of the jewelry box in the right closet, on the shelf above the grey suit case. The words just manifested in my mind, and I didn’t exactly hear them per say, it was more like.... You know how when you think to yourself forming sentences and general words and dialogue and whatnot? And you know how there’s that voice inside your head that’ll sound like your actual voice, (unless your reading a book and then it sounds like one of the characters)? Well the words that came into my head sounded out in my ‘mental voice’, but rang out like an echo at the end of a song that suddenly went from playing in your headphones to blasting out of a speaker. God I wish I could’ve said that in an easier way.... 

Anyways, I went over to the right closet and, seeing the antique jewelry box covered in a light coat of dust on the shelf, opened the middle drawer of it, and found the ring glinting there.

I wanted to show Evan’s great aunt Pearl the ring because she and I have a love for garage sale-ing and she was helping me with bargaining.

I’ve had a talent for finding things my whole life, and well, as you’ve observed, seeing auras is another of my capabilities. I don’t remember how I got them; just that I’ve always had them, but those aren’t the only strange talents, because I’ll see spirits too.... Well they’re not usually spirits; normally they’re just demons trying to pass as someone who’s died (I’m sorry but this is what happens most of the time. No, your poor old grandmother is not trying to contact you from beyond the grave, but a demon is most likely trying to make you think that). And once I saw − what I think were − nature spirits.  
And once when I climbed a tree with Rose and Aly, my hand slipped on a branch and when I fell, my legs threw themselves around a branch and my hands clamped on for dear life, without my realizing. So I’ve got good natural reflexes.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” I said realizing.

“What?” Evan replied.

“That bag of threads, and beads that I bought. I promised your sisters I would teach them how to make friendship bracelets.”

“Oh yeah; Madelyn Elizabeth and especially Elianna, have been talking about that.” He remarked chuckling.  
I went to the hallway and walked straight forward to the little table that we shared for summer projects, homework, and drawing.  
Drawing was a very common thing for us to do. I think it’s something that we inherited from my grandmother who never actually worked as an artist but she’s really talented at it and does it as a hobby. I was best at drawing objects and clothing (I love drawing steam punk weaponry, like chakrams that ), Violet at animals and backgrounds, Rose at people and subtle details, Alice – er – Aly is amazing at general textures, colors, and shades. We’re actually pretty good, and since we each have our own areas of expertise, we’ll sometimes take home art assignments and circulate the pictures, working on each so that they look a lot better. I was the one who mostly needed help, as I’m right handed but I do things as though I were left handed. I apply too much pressure with my right hand instead of dragging it along the page so I end up making little ruts in the paper.

I turned to face the table which has a little window that points to the side yard, and finding the large bag of almost assorted strings, and beads, took it to my room where I placed them in the black leather bag.

“So is that it then?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just need to write a note.”

“Okay.”

I left my room, went down the hall, and went down the stairs, turned left and went to the phone table in the living room. I took a sticky note and a pen and wrote down 

Dear Mom,  
I went to spend the night at Evan’s house.  
Love You,  
Nicholas

Next I went to the kitchen and made sure that the kitchen was spotless, having cleaned it earlier after I made dinner.... Oh! That’s right! Dinner! I scribbled down at the bottom of the note.  
PS. Dinner is in the microwave. A minute and a half should be long enough.

Good. I had everything done. I was ready to leave. I went back upstairs, into my room, and said to Evan “Okay. I’m done.”  
I put the screen back into the window frame and pushed the little metal tabs to lock it there, and then shut the window and locked it.  
I turned to Evan and he said “Ready to go?”

“Yup. Let’s go.”

And with that I closed the leather bag with a zip!, slung it over my right shoulder, and we went down the stairs, to the entryway where I slipped on my black and white sneakers, and turned to leave out the door, in what was probably soon to be the pouring rain.


	3. The Forest Song

Chapter Two  
2 A Song Of The Forest  
Violet

Charlie left Bardolf’s body, returning the big oaf’s golden left eye to its natural brown, and the beast gave an enormous sigh.

“Well that was close!” The spirit said.

“How did you know it was Evan?” He added shortly after.

“I knew it was Evan, because Nicholas is really clueless about how thin the wall is between my closet and his room. Oh, and his aura changes a bit when he sees his friends.... It gets more....”

“Vibrant?” My teacher suggested.

“Yes. That’s exactly it. Now, where were we?”

“I was going to teach you how to give realistic and subtle details to your glamors without having to try so hard.” Charlie replied rising from his seat on my bed.  
I threw the blanket off and leaped to my feet, walked to the closet and removed the strange plate from behind my – yet to be used – suitcase.

“Good now set it back on the book stack here, just like you had it.”  
I did as he said, and then turned to face him.  
I still find it a little strange that of all things that could’ve been teaching me magic, it was the spirit of a 22 year old human-fairy hybrid, who died before he ever even knew of his magical lineage, and I had never even met before he just appeared in the cemetery when I was visiting my father there. I also thought it was strange that whenever he used his spirit abilities he suddenly smelled like a cheap taco, and when he used his fairy abilities he suddenly smelled strongly of sugar, and chocolate cake.

“Now, as I was saying, words have immense power behind them. Especially in Japan. There, if you say something negative it sends out waves of influence, that often times decrease the chances of being successful in a given task. Words are things that can never really be taken back. In this exercise we’ll be using those waves of influence to enhance a glamor, making the illusion more powerful through the power of suggestion.”

“Okay? How do I do this? And what’s the plate for?”

“The plate is an old tool that Goblins use to cast an illusion over a large area. I found it in the forest, just laying there, with a powerful illusion, but no Goblins anywhere.”

“So, all you’ve got to do is, imagine what you want your illusion to be, and describe it through rhyming.”

“Really? That’s all?”

“Yup. Now do it.”

“Fine.” I sighed. I love rhymes, I got an A+ in English Class for it, I just don’t like doing it on the spot.  
I took a closed my eyes, took a deep breath and let the words come to me. I imagined a little forest of pine trees fading into view above the plate.

“Sunshine,

Warm breeze

Soft grass

Pine trees

Blue skies

Robins

Small creeks that

Frogs fall in

Fairies and Elves

Traveling in a group of twelve

Bluebells

Cana

Roses

And Fauna”

I sang the words in sprechgesang (opera speech: a form of speaking used in opera).

“Woah! Violet. You need to see this. It’s beautiful.”  
I opened my eyes and saw above the strange plate a beautiful green pine forest, with three elves swimming in a tiny river, while three fairy children were flying after robins, and chased by two adult fairies, while another fairy child who was crouching down plucking flowers, being abandoned by the only other adult fairy who was running to the creek where two children were zapping frogs. I have to say it was a lot more lively than I had expected, the children were more mischievous, and I didn’t even think of the elves using the river like a swimming pool.

“You’re really good at this, and getting the hang of it fast.” He complimented.

“Why thank you.” I said curtsying.

“.... Charlie.... I was wondering, when are we going to learn something more complicated, like flying?”

“Well.... To be honest, I’m not sure. I can’t really tell if you’re ready yet, since the only time you get to learn magic is when you aren’t in school, and are finally left alone. You’re family is almost annoyingly close and are always around so we can’t really begin practicing something because then if you were actually caught trying to practice magic, then they’d know that you were more than just a fantasy geek. But you also tend to learn lots of information in small increments of time, and you’re also naturally gifted in your lessons so you tend to cast spells with little effort or practice.”

“Which reminds me, we still need to go over how to ‘sheathe’ and ‘unsheathe’ your wings. Since you don’t know how to work your muscles to do this, I’ll have to do it in your body.” He added quickly after.

“Well, that sounds like an exciting experience, but you haven’t taught me invisibility yet!” I complained.

“Well then, let’s get started” he replied grinning.


	4. A Night With Alice

Chapter Three  
3 A Night With Alice  
Rose

“How’s the job going at the shop?” Alice asked me.

“Pretty good,” I responded smirking, “Just fixed up an old green 1974 Ford Ranchero 500 with a V8 400m engine. It was so cool! But the shade of green was really terrible. It was a plastic - like green.”

“That’s good. How’s Harry?” Uncle Harry is one of my Dad’s best friends, who took over the mechanic shop, after my dad passed, and he’s the one who gave me a job when I applied there. He’s always been around for us and no, he’s not really our uncle, we just call him that.

“He’s doing pretty well. His dog Lucy just had a whole litter, so if you’re looking for a puppy he could give you one. There’s about eight of them, three girls, and five boys.” I said remembering how excited he was, earlier that morning.

Uncle Harry has a shy (*cough* ditsy *cough*) wife named Anastasia who was very proper (*cough* bitchy *cough*), and a son named Blake who was three years older than me, and in college. Blake isn’t very close or talkative with his parents, so Harry treats me like a second (more like primary since his own child doesn’t try to visit or bond with him) and I’m fine with it; his wife Anastasia was good friends with my mom, but was better friends with the more gossiping PTA parents at his son’s school in Huntersville about an hour away from here, so basically all he has to himself and his friends is hunting, and the mechanic shop, so he has a big brown chocolate Lab named Lucy that he trained to be a hunting dog. He takes me hunting with him sometimes and I’ve seen how well trained she was. But she's almost the size of a miniature horse.

“Sweet. I’ve been so sad ever since Bob ran away.” She said sadly.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him about it”, I responded “but enough of this sad talk. Let’s play some more Danger Days, get some more popcorn, and watch some True Blood!” I said trying to cheer her up.

“Ok!” She said, suddenly beaming.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four  
4 The Surprise Welcome  
Emma

When I pulled into the driveway around the back of the house, I noticed another car in the visitor’s parking space. It was a gray Chevy Equinox with ornamental pink dice, an octopus, and a black cherry scented air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror, and it was covered in mud.  
This has to be my younger sister Jenna, because I had gotten her the octopus when she was younger, and she wouldn’t stop whining about it. I hoped that she brought her son Thomas (I call him Tom to get on his nerves but he’s actually grown accustomed to it). He’s got a great sense of taste, (something his mother and I have in common) which is always a help businesswise.

I parked my black and dark red Chevy Nova in my spot, closed the door, locked it, and ran across the gravel, past my matching motorcycle Cherry Bomb, to unlock the backdoor in what was becoming a downpour. I pushed it open and inhaling the subtle scent of sugar in the strong aroma of flour knew I was truly at home.  
I turned around to lock the door behind me, and then turned right, to the large pearl door with a sign that said

NOT EVEN STAFF ONLY  
PLEASE DON’T ENTER   
UNLESS I INVITE YOU.

I unlocked this door and walking up the light blue stairway beyond it, turned again to lock this door, and walked up the flight. At the top of the stairs I removed my black leather boots on the floor mat, beside my sister’s blue and white sneakers, and Tom’s green and white converse. I looked up and walking through the open doorway called out “Hello!”  
I walked through the darkened hall and flipping the lights on walked down passed the lawn green walls adorned with pictures, and called out “I know you’re here Jenna, if you really wanted to surprise me, you should’ve found a better place to park than my driveway.” I ended that with a chuckle, and reaching the end of the hall turned left, to the illuminated dining room where the two blonds sat smiling.  
Jenna has long beautiful wavy blond hair that she wore down, and jade green eyes that matched her earrings: little stars that dangled there each on its own little chain. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a turquoise t shirt and a pair of really fuzzy striped socks. Her hair was shining more than it usually does probably wet from the sprinkling rain earlier. It probably was wet from the rain, I thought, because she never uses that umbrella she keeps in the car. When we were younger she was always looking up to me, and I’ve always just decided not to bother with an umbrella unless it’s a really big downpour, but Jenna never uses one, even when I’d tell her to and it’s a habit she’s stuck with even today.

“Hey big sis!” she said getting up and gave me a big hug.

“Hi! I’m doing great,” I responded and added “as usual” in a cool and casual tone.

“And how are you doing?” I asked her unwrapping my arms from around her arms and letting my hands come to rest on her shoulders. “And,” I added turning my head towards the younger blond, “how. Are. You?”

“Hi Aunt Emma” Tom said smiling.

“Ugh! I told you, call me Em! And when did you get so tall?” I replied with a smile.

“I’m doing pretty good, I got that promotion at work.”

“I know, I heard. I’m so proud of you.” I said giving my sister an even bigger hug. Jenna works as a school teacher in Havenridge, a town just about an hour away, located just at   
the far end of Braiden Lake. It really shouldn’t be an hour away, but I’m not very good at finding shortcuts, and there’s a busy city, with awful traffic and worse drivers crowding the roads. Anyway she teaches the special education classes, and is also the school counselor. 

“And Thomas here is all ready for school next year.”

“What?!” I exclaimed with a look of shock.

“Yeah, my mentor is really helpful, gave me a list of everything I’ll need next year, and what books to read for English.” He said smiling.  
I was happy. Tom isn’t very good at English or history, he’s better at science and math. He gets decent grades in English and History thanks to moa. I’m glad he already has a friend to help him.

“It turns out that one my old students is Thomas’s student mentor.”

“Wow, that’s great! Oh, I forgot to ask how’s Sean doing?” Sean is Jenna’s five foot nine, brown haired brown eyed husband, who works at an architecture firm. He’s funny, I guess, Jenna finds his jokes funnier than I do, but as long as he’s good for Jenna I can pretend to laugh.

“He’s doing pretty well actually. His firm just got hired to design a new building plan for a restaurant that’s going to be built in Gravar township.”

“Sounds nice. Do you know when it should be finished?”

“Yeah, he said the plans would be done by Wednesday, and the construction will start Friday.”

“Good.” I replied.  
From then on I spent a good hour and a half talking to my little sister catching up with her on everything that’s been happening lately. She’s asked me about the shop, we talked about Doctor Who and all of our other favorite shows like Sherlock and Supernatural, we had a few wine coolers, and talked about our parents until the rain let up and it was midnight.

“And now for the real discussion, don’t worry about Tom; he’ll be fine while he’s here.” I said.

“Now won’t you?” I said turning my head to him with a smile. His eyes lit up excitedly from the living room, where he was watching tv. Let’s just say that I’m more of the fun-loving friend, than I am the responsible aunt and older sister. I let Tom have some more freedom than Jenna lets him have – not that she’s strict or anything, because she’s not that strict at all – the only real difference between Jenna’s parenting and my caretaking is that Jenna is a teacher so if she’ll be a hard ass about him finishing his homework and doing extra credit, whereas I could care less about math and just leave him to handle his school stuff. I’m taking Tom in for the school year, because he’s going to the local private high school and it’s too long a drive from his house (we may live in a little local community where everyone know each other, but the three towns that make it up have shitty winding roads that are too small and curvy for busses, and get to dangerous when they’re muddy or icy), so I’ll take him in and maybe give him a job at the bakery.

“And yes I’ll make him do his homework and all.” I said turning a reassuring look to her. “I’ll even hit with a ruler once or twice if you want.” I joked.

“Ok, ok, I know. He’ll be fine, and you’ll be great, I’m just going to miss you” she said turning her eyes to Tom.

“Hey Tom would you mind going to another room for a minute so your mother and I can talk without you spoiling the moment making us all emotional.” I said chuckling at the end of it.

“Yeah, you’re really messing up our conversation here, trying to make me cry.” Jenna added laughing.

“Damn it, Tom. You’re ruining everything.” I ended the same way.

“Wow, message received. Thanks. Love you too.” He said sarcastically, and then added “Night.”

“Damned kids.” I said afterwords.

“Ruining everything.” Jenna finished, laughing.


	6. The Thing In The Woods

Chapter Five  
5 The Thing In The Woods  
Nicholas

When Evan and I left the house from the front door, the porch lights flickered on quickly illuminating the darkened driveway. We turned left and went by the tree line on the side of the road and we walked that way for about a minute and a half, getting soaked by the rain and the mud from the oncoming traffic, until we reached a large opening in the tree line, where we turned and went into the thicket, where we were sheltered a little better from the rainfall and could hear the pitter patter from the leaves above our heads.

“Wait!” He said with a cunning smile and electrified eyes.

“What?” I said with a slight chuckle. Oh, I thought this is going to interesting.... To say the least. I added thinking over the possibilities of what he had in mind.  
He turned his (dripping) back to me and walked over to a tree with a little hole protected by its roots, and crouching down onto his knees and bending over he reached into the hole. When he got up he was holding a black back pack and unzipping the bag pulled out an umbrella, smiling with an even larger expression.

“Because unlike you, I think ahead about these kinds of things.” He said smirking with a smart ass look on his face.

“Oh, you mean all of the little - convenient – details, that don’t get as much recognition as the main attractions.” I retorted, with a sneering smile. Evan and I are both deep thinkers, and joke about each other’s failures to think about or fully plan things out. He’s much better at preparation for the smaller inconveniences, while I’m better at thinking and preparing for the larger issues.

“Okay. Thank you.... I guess.” I said grinning.

“You’re welcome.” He said giving a bow.  
He slipped his arms through the arms of his bag, pressed the button, the umbrella shooting up and taking shape, and held his arm out gesturing for me to link my arm with his.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t count on it Casanova.” I said chuckling.

And so, off we went , continuing down the forest path beneath the cover of the umbrella. Walking through the trees on the soft wet grass, for about another ten minutes until we heard a loud CRACK! and saw lightning.

Evan sighed “We better put this away then.” He said.

“AAAAAAAAAA–” I heard a scream, like that of an old man but was cut off by something, and then a faint low gurgling sound.  
The next thing I knew my body flung itself at Evan knocking him over, and sending us rolling on the ground about ten feet from the path, where we stopped when we went straight into a tree.

It hurt like Hell, and the next thing I heard was a loud bloodcurdling teeth curling noise.

It sounded like an animalistic roar mimicking a human battle cry, going “AAAAAAUUUUURRRRRRROOOOOOGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It made me cringe and shook me from the pain of my current predicament, and opening my eyes I realized that my hand was clamped down over Evan’s mouth.   
The sound of fabric ripping, things sailing through the air, and those things hitting the ground plopping like gelatin filled the night. A flash of shadows, five trees splitting into huge pieces, and then a huge human like figure was standing twenty feet away in flannel drenched in blood, but it also looked like all the humanoid’s naked flesh was covered in a dark and beast like coat of dirty wet fur, that I could smell the overwhelmingly shitty aroma of.

I could smell the strong copper scent of blood, but eventually that overpowered even the bestial figure’s own shitty stench, so I knew that my nose was bleeding.  
The figure leapt at us and in that moment I let loose a scream so loud and piercing it was like nails on a chalkboard. All I wanted was to be at home, in my room, in my bed. I saw it in my mind so clearly that it was like I was actually there. Suddenly there was a flash of white that shone through my eyelids regardless that they happened to be clamped shut.  
I gave the loudest shriek that I could but after a moment I realized that the air was suddenly warm around me, and I no longer heard the pitter patter of rain as loudly as it had previously been. 

Oh, Hell! Am I dead? Is this Heaven?!?!?!? 

“No Your not dead dumbass. And I think you mean Hell. Now please get off of me.” I opened my eyes and I was on top of Evan on my bed in my room. I pushed myself off of Evan and fell backwards onto the floor with an “Ooof!”


	7. Healing Hands

Chapter Six  
6 Healing Hands  
Violet

Charlie had just exited my body and I was about to unsheathe my wings when I heard a deafening shriek from Nicholas’s room. Charlie possessed Bardolf, for the second time tonight, and ran alongside me to the next room over.

The hound’s fur was a lot spikier, and his body seemed to throw off waves of electricity. I kicked the door open and my older brother was laying on the floor drenched with rain, his nose bleeding, and his body bruised. Evan was lying on the bed in a similar state.

“Oh my God! Nicholas, what happened to you?!?” I said scrambling to his cold injured body.

“I’m not really sure, but you should’ve seen the other guy…. Thing…. Looked like shit.” He coughed out. Then he sneezed blood onto his arm, and said “It is a long story.”

“In twelve minutes? I’m sure it is!” I said half hysterical.

“Did you fall out of a tree again? I told you last time NOT IN THE RAIN! Ugh! You’re so stupid sometimes! And what happened to going to HIS house?” I said pointing at Evan. This isn’t usual for Nicholas, unless he’s tired or sick…. Well he might’ve just forgotten to take his medicine. He gets surprisingly out of hand without it.

I got up from Nicholas’s side on the floor and looked at Evan on the bed. He was wide eyed and had circles beneath his eyes and was taking deep breaths as well. Oh HELL. Something big happened and these two witnessed it. Or at least Evan did. Nicholas off his meds is kind of like a happy drunk, not helpful, doesn’t register much, and laughs more than he talks. Evan’s aura had dimmed a lot and was barely visible. I put my hand on his forehead and sliding it down his face, closed his eyes forcefully, and made my aura flare and continued to move my hand until it reached his chest. I seeped my aura into his body, and could see his cracked rib. Damn it! I’ll have to heal him, but that’ll lead to more questions, and usually that’s what I should be doing! Asking questions.... Maybe Charlie could explain it to them…. Or I could pretend to be clueless and not heal them. He hasn’t taught me a sleeping spell yet. Oh, never mind. He fell asleep on his own. My brother’s mattress is surprisingly comfortable. 

I still wondered what had happened but I had to prioritize, and right now, I had two people who needed help, and helping people is what I want to do the most. So I went to my room and pulled out my shirt drawer, and moved my t shirts from the back and grabbed a plastic bottle, of healing oil. It’s the kind that priests use for anointing the sick, and I got some from my grandpa, the local pastor. I then went to the dress drawer and grabbed three things: a green candle, a purple stone (it’s actually a light gray but some purple flower petals fell on it and decayed there staining it), and a little hex bag that I made from one of my bandanas, a black and white one (it’s filled with all sorts of natural healing herbs and such. For example: willow bark [cure’s a headache]; ginger root [great for an upset stomach]; a lemon [good for building an immunity to colds, and its anti bacterial!]. I then went to one last drawer, my underwear drawer and at the back of it was one of my wands. A small thing I carved from birch bark (I mostly like healing magic, illusions second, but if Charlie ever teaches me, flying (with wings! Being part fairy rocks! So far I can do it without them, but it doesn’t feel very natural, and apparently I’ve only done it in my sleep) will be my favorite! So in the spirit of healing magic I chose birch bark; a natural aspirin and it makes painful swelling go down.) Again, it’s not my only wand, and I do have wands for poisons. I’ve actually gathered a rather large collection of wands.

I gathered these quickly and returned to my brother’s room where Bardolf – I mean Charlie – was licking my brother’s face. Good, I thought, try to distract him from the real issue… or maybe he just has a man – crush... Please keep it up… For now at least. I needed to find out what happened. 

I went over to the bed knowing full well my brother would be soon asleep as well, if not from exhaustion then from Charlie/Bardolf’s licking. Charlie every now and then uses a sleeping spell through Bardolf’s body to help me, or my mom, Nicholas or Rose, with insomnia. So while the beast worked, I went to work on the boy on the bed. I set the hex bag on his chest and…. Crap! I forgot the matches! I ran back into my room and grabbed my shoulder bag, and ran back to the injured Evan. I then opened up a small pouch in the bag and grabbed the small box of matches (I was a little ‘pyro’ when I was younger. hehehe). I then struck a match and lit the candle. I made my aura flare through the string and into the flame. I took my wand and focused my light through it, until I could see it shining out of the end. I made the flame and my light meet and then when they affected each other (the flame began to shine brighter and flicker less, and the light became less shimmery and more of a continuous shine) I moved the candle tip to the stone, and the wand to the bag. I then focused on making Evan’s cracked rib heal. 

The bone fixed faster than I thought it would, but then again it is the first time I got to heal someone (other than my brother whose body didn’t obey to anything but the oil. Charlie says it probably means Nicholas is either magically retarded or his body formed an immunity to magic).

When I opened my eyes and looked at my supplies, the candle had melted nearly halfway down the stick, and the stone had formed cracks on it. I felt a sudden dizzy spell, the makings of a migraine, and it felt like most of my energy was just sucked out of me.

I turned to Nicholas next and removed his shirt so it wouldn’t smell like this foul scented – but holy – liquid, and poured the oil…. On his face, and then on the rest of him. What? He deserves it for scaring me like this. And he’s been holding back secret powers. Sure I was doing the same thing, but I’m not going to do something stupid, and I’m not the one who needs medication…. Anymore. Plus I don’t stumble upon random portals... But then again, why would a portal lead to his room from…. Anywhere? And even if there is, then why would he have never walked through it before? And if he has walked through it before then why wouldn’t he tell me about it? He talks to me about everything, so he knows I’ll listen, and won’t ever think anything bad of him. Which means that he must have a psychic ability! There’s no other (logical) explanation for it.

I looked down at the boy that I’ve known my whole life after making the discovery that he may not be what I thought he was. Things were about to get interesting and I could just feel it.


End file.
